Her Immortal
by AmandaFaye
Summary: Who was the Immortal perhaps a certain really old guy? Highlander cross over, reposted, corrected.


Her Immortal

It was nearly sunrise, so Buffy really could have gone on back to the hotel, but she didn't want to. There was a strange feeling in the air of the ancient Parisian cemetary. It made her wish she wasn't patrolling alone, but the one she wanted to patrol with was Mr. Dust pile. No matter it was a heroic dust pile. There was no closure.

Feeling so alone, when she discovered she wasn't, it was a shock. The weird feeling vanished as her eyes fell on the lanky man sitting sadly be a grave. It was not a vampy vibe, but who besides a slayer or vamp would be in a grave yard at night, albeit waning?

He looked so down, maybe staking him would be a favor. As her feet took her closer, Buffy wished she could be more like Faith. Ruthless. But, nope. Not Miss Honorable. She couldn't just stab someone in the back, not even a soulless bloodsucking child of the night. Scratch the child bit. There needed to be a rule. No attractive, even in a strange way, vampires.

"Get up. Let me kill you to your face. It's almost dawn and even if you are suicidal, a stake's gotta feel better than incineration."

Slowly he turned to stare at her with wise eyes that held a hint of mockery. "Holy ground, luv. Paris doesn't really need a new volcano, Eiffel Tower, Louvre, Versailles. Quite enough touristy stuff for anyone. "

Buffy paused, totally lost.

He did not miss a beat. Besides, wood? Even if you beat me, you can't decapitate anyone with wood. I guess you might steal my sword, if you could lift it, but how sporting is it to use a guy's own blade on him."

"I think we have a failure to communicate," she said slowly.

"Cool Hand Luke right? Or was it a Clint Eastwood thing. Hardly matters. Hasn't been a decent play in any form since Elizabethan days, and that was nothing compared to the Greeks." he continued conversationally. "And by the way, should we meet off of Holy ground and you want to fight, it's tradition to introduce yourself to the victim before the fight. I will admit my opening line isn't as polished as one of those bloody Scots. I'm Something Mcleod of the clan Mcleod and I'm here to take your head. Adam Pierson just doesn't roll off the tongue like that. Maybe I'll change it. Adam of the clan Pierson. Nah. " Seeing Buffy still held her weapon. "Come on, I'd rather take you out for a beer than go to blows."

"Do you know what you are? We can't go out on a date!" she burst out.

"I've known me for a very long time. And I don't see why not. Unless I killed someone you care about? If I did, I'm sure I had a good reason." He looked troubled for a moment.

"And besides," she glanced eastward, "you are about to be dust, even if I just stand here and watch you burn to death." Why was she arguing and not fighting? Oh yeah, he seemed kind of pitiful.

"Morbid little thing aren't you? Why in the world would I burn to death? I'm not Joan of Arc by any stretch, and that was England. Not France. More guillotining over here, but still long since."

"Hello, vampires and sun don't mix," Buffy finally exclaimed in disgust.

The man began laughing. "Vampire. You think I'm a vampire? Good grief, woman. I'm not that bad looking, unless I've a hangover. "

"Then, why are you hanging around in a graveyard and giving off weird vibes?"

"Could ask you the same, pet," he retorted, ignoring her flinch. "Come on, I think you need some explanations. " Grabbing her arm, he went to another bench, shaking its lone occupant awake.

"Wake up, Joe. We've got a new one."

The older looking man opened one eye grumpily. "Another what?"

"Whatcha think? A new or maybe not so- Immortal. And how can you call yourself a Watcher- unless it's the back of your eyelids."

"I trust you to tell me what I miss."

"Yeah, well, you nearly missed a fight on Holy Ground. We need to find Macleod."

"How come?"

"Teaching duty."

Buffy was tired of being ignored by this time, "Hey, I'm right here, the one being discussed, I think. And I thought all the Watchers were dead, except for Giles."

"Galotti wasn't that great a shot," Joe grumbled. "If she's so new, how's she know about us?"

Methos decided that was a great question, so he turned back to Buffy. "Have you met a tall, irritating Scotsman with a sense of honor dating back to the age of knights and all that? Not to mention a big mouth."

"Uh, no."

"Giles?" Joe was frowning. "Giles who? I don't think there's any Giles in the database."

"There's not. I typed it- remember?"

Buffy was shaking her head, trying to follow all this. It'd be easier to just stake them both. Apparently picking up on her thought, Methos glanced at Joe again. "Oh, and Dawson, tell her I'm not a blood sucking scumbag."

"I thought you had a law degree."

"Funny. Vampire, I mean."

"To the best of my knowledge of the old man there, he's not a vampire. That was Nicky. But he's dead."

"See, told you I'm not a vampire. Doctor, lawyer, student, horseman, etc. and so on, but not that."

By now the sun was high enough to prove him true, but the Slayer was still lost.

"Come on, Joe. Let's take her back to Le Blues bar and have a wake up beer. My tab."

"Next will you write, Adam, " Joe shot back, "make me your heir. Maybe that'll pay off your tab."

"I was planning on killing off one of my id's next year. Doctor. Nice insurance policy. I'll make him your seventh cousin twice removed, only living relative."

"Thanks."

So confused was Buffy by this time, she failed to resist their guidance to a blues club that had closed down from last night only a few hours before.

"So," Methos began as he poured breakfast into a tankard, "when'd you die?"

"Nice," Joe muttered.

"Which time?" slipped out too hastily.

The two men exchanged raised brow glances.

"Any - all," Methos shrugged as he set a beer in front of her.

"Ugh. I don't get along well with beer. Coffee?"

"Ah, my broken heart. To love a teetotalling woman," he sighed dramatically.

"Well, there's more for you then, " Joe consoled him. "And quit falling for a woman in five minutes, Mac's enough of that."

Methos ignored him, moved the second beer to his place without comment, then went for java for Buffy. "So the dying, when? How?"

"Once in high school. Xander CPR'd me back,"

"Wonder if that counts?" Joe mused.

"Then, about three or four years ago, I kind of jumped off a building and was dead for a few months."

"Buried you did they?" Methos asked, unphased. "Makes reviving a bitch. Just ask Mandy. First time Mac got ticked and left her buried, she was there a week. Not a happy lady when he decided to forgive her."

"She'll kill you if she hear's the Mandy."

He shrugged.

Buffy slammed her hand on the table, demanding attention and ignoring Methos' grieved expression over the sloshed drink. "First, I have no idea what you are talking about. Second, I'm not sure what second is."

"You're in the game now, love," Methos said. "Have been for a bit, judging what you've said. "Must've lived in some backwater burg that didn't attract many of us or you'd know it all. Or as much as anyone does. The easy version is; there are some of us who die, but don't stay that way. We wake up and never age again and can be killed only if the head comes away from the neck. Then it's all over. " He sighed. "In the end, there can be only one. When one of us is really killed, their killer inherits all that they are or were, all power and knowledge in a blinding lightshow of fire. The power of life. The quickening. Whoever the one is, will have all of all of us living inside themselves. "

"Sounds like Matrix four," Buffy quipped.

Methos, heedless of sloshes, slammed his hand down. "It's no game, little girl. It's the fight to decide whether or not a good person like Macleod or an infinite evil such as Kronos or Xavier has a few aeons of knowledge living in them. Enough to rule Earth if they like. "

"You called it a game," she pointed out.

Before Methos could sputter, Joe agreed. "You did."

"I wasn't in charge of naming the thing. Ramirez probably is responsible for that."

There was silence. Then, "I'm not too good at games, ask my teachers- on plays well with others, I flunked, so I'll stick to solitaire," Buffy said, beginning to edge her seat back.

But Methos was too quick, snagging her wrist in a grip even the Slayer could not break. "It's not a multiple choice or even true or false. It just is. You don't get to choose, you're chosen."

"Where have I heard that line before?" she muttered. "Enough about moi, what were you doing in a graveyard at that hour?"

Methos turned a bland gaze on her. "Noone's business, but mine, actually. However, in the interest of proving I'm not some monster from the dollar show matinee,"

"You really are ancient if you could get in a movie for a dollar."

"Funny. I was saying until we meet again to my 69th wife, Alexa. Apparently, Kronos wasn't as confident in surviving as he appeared. He left a will, and I'm the heir of my brother's empire, as it were. So, Joseph and I are heading to Italy."

"Are you two, uh- I mean I have friends who are, so it's" Buffy was turning beet red.

Joe began snickering. "She thinks we're a couple, old man."

"Even if I was on that team, " Methos said hautily, "I could find a prettier sort than him. However, I'm not." And to prove his point, the oldest of old yanked on Buffy's captured wrist, pulling her in for a surprise kiss ambush. Either she was too startled to protest or she liked it. She didn't protest until it ended and she saw the smug look on his face.

To break the uneasy silence that fell on them, Joe calmly opined, "Before we head to the Eternal City, shouldn't we find Buffy a teacher?"

"Eternal City?" Methos echoed, new awareness blooming on his face, "so that's why Kronos called it home."

"The guy who named himself Adam just now figuring this out," the Watcher scoffed.

Methos took a pull of beer, shrugging. "I find it best not to think too long about the habits of my brothers or the way their minds worked. But, you're right. Might want to take note of the occassion. Is Amanda back from her Russian tour?"

"She ran into Cory Raines a few weeks ago."

Methos winced. "In jail yet?"

"Give it another couple of weeks. "

"Fine, scratch her off the possible list. Macleod?"

"Both MIA. "

"Cassandra," though this name was said with great reluctance, the way Buffy would imagine Angel asking for Spike's help.

Joe just looked at his friend. "I'm not even going to be on the same continent when you two meet up again."

Mentally sifting names again, Warren Cochrane. Walter. Michelle? Ciardan? Grace? Methos finally hit one that wasn't totally out of the question. "Robert and Gina."

"Their honeymoon is still going on. Tibet, no phones."

Methos sighed. "Well, young lady, you are in luck. I'm going to be your teacher."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "In-?"

"Fighting, hand to hand. Swordplay."

An amused look twisted her lips before she began giggling. "Sorry- it's just. I know it all. "

"You just admitted to not knowing anything more than what we told you about the Game," he countered.

"That doesn't mean I'm helpless. I've been fighting for eight years."

"Do tell," Methos cooed.

Anger pushing her, Buffy did so. "Let's see, ordinary high school girl. Cheerleader. Nothing bigger than who to date on my mind, and a tweedy Brit corners me and tells me I'm the chosen one. She who is called to fight darkness until she bites the dust. I thought he was whacked, then he proved that vampires are real, and I was supposed to fight them. So I did. Got me expelled, locked up, ostracized and probably broke up my folks. So, fresh start time, mom and I move to Sunnyhell, Ca. To find more vampires and tweedy Brits waiting for me. I've killed the Master, Glorificus, the snakey Mayor, another guy named Adam, only he wasn't a guy but a machine demon cyborgy thing, saved the world five times over at least, had to kill my boyfriend who got too happy and tried to kill everyone, had a sister thrust on me that isn't my sister, and saved the world from the first evil, killing my last, my last love in the process. So yeah, I know fighting."

Adam managed to remain poker faced. "Okay, you've clocked some field time. Should make my job easier. How do you feel about Italia?"

Buffy just stared at him. "Did you listen at all?"

"Every word. But that doesn't prove that you can handle facing a thousands of years old demon who can take any form of a loved one,"

"Done that."

"The Horsemen of the Appocolypse."

"Can't be worse than Glorifcus, Hell goddess."

"Yourself."

Obligatory flashback

1 BC. Patience, Methos' greatest asset, served him well. When Kronos had wished to go after the escaped slave Cassandra after she killed him and ran, Methos had protested, arguing that allowing her freedom made a better game. Let her quickening build enough to be worth taking. Let her have a feeling of safety, security, freedom even. Then, when she least expected it....

Kronos agreed, never seeing the lie. After centuries, Methos proposed they disband for a while. Alexander, the Rome had civilized so much of their world it was harder for their chosen career to prosper. And besides, he had that promise about Cassandra to keep. Surely by now she was worth his time. So he'd headed to France and Britain after leaving Kronos, Silas, and Caspian. A few hundred years later, he'd have known he felt like Jekyll and Hyde, divided into two beings. Now, he just felt awar with his soul. Reaching a forgotten patch of Holy Ground, he'd tumbled into an oubliette, headlong into a sacred well. And faced ... himself. Much like Duncan Mcleod would thousands of years later, Methos had fought his darkness, and won. He came out changed, but conflicted until thirty something years later, his life had been altered beyong measure. But that tale was for another day.

"The First wore my face, at one point. When I killed or stopped her- it." Buffy's answer sounded weak.

"But have you faced you. Just you, not an imposter?" he insisted.

She had to admit. "No, not really. Some, but ..."

"Then, you can still learn from me. I ask again, Italy. Will you come?"

Buffy just stared at him a moment, then burst into laughter. "Do you always ask strange women to go on long journeys with you?"

Methos' eyes betrayed the amusement his impassive face hid, "Only the special ones. You are the -- let's see. One.. two. The second ever."

Joe felt compelled to add, "And if you're half as special as number one, you're ten times more so than any other girl he's picked up."

Buffy looked between them incredulously, then a moment of pure clarity hit her, she blinked and nodded. "Okay, but I come with baggage."

Methos shrugged. "Good thing Kronos left me a plane then. "

Joe choked on his coffee. "He left you a plane?"

"As I understand it, he got tired of trying to get his swords through customs, so he built his own airstrips and got a plane." Methos sounded bored.

Though momentarily distracted, Buffy corrected him, "I don't mean like Samsonite, I mean- emotional stuff. Family, kid sister, Watcher..."

Methos finished his beer before replying. "I guess it's fair, I get to take my Watcher, actually Macleod's, you can take- hold on, how'd you get a Watcher already? " Suspiscion flared in his eyes.

"Not to mention, how'dya know who she is?" Joe added. "Most of you guys don't know us guys are here. " Heading off the question before it was voiced, "Adam doesn't play by rules well."

"Uh, the tweedy guy I mentioned, Giles, introduced himself as my Watcher, and wouldn't like being called a she."

"You didn't mention he was your Watcher," Joe countered.

"Actually, she did, indirectly, " Methos grinned smugly. "She thought all you guys were dead except Giles, and I quote."

"Us guys," Joe reminded under his breath. Aloud, "He told you he was your Watcher, before or after you - ah - died?"

"Before. I wasn't supposed to come back after the dying thing."

Sensing that they were about to get re-entangled in words, Methos stuck his nose in, "Buffy, does - Giles- have a tatoo on his arm?"

Helpfully, Joe rolled up his sleeve to reveal a blue pattern on the inside of his arm. Buffy glanced at it. "He did have a tatoo, but not like that. It was a weird demon attracting thing that we burned off after the demon attracted came after him."

"Wise move," Methos commented drily.

"Does that one--?"

"Attract demons?" he asked. "No. Or does it?" His eyes slid to the Watcher.

"There was Ahriman," Joe shuddered. "But that was more because I knew Mac than anything else. He didn't limit his attention to tatooed people."

The old man's face darkened. "I noticed." Shaking off the dark mood mentioning the ancient evil's name incited, Methos turned back to Buffy. "Obviously, there's more than one kind of Watcher. Knew I should have copyrighted the name, except, well they didn't have copyrights when I inven-oops."

Joe slammed a hand down in front of the ancient one. "You invented the Watchers?!!"

"Of course," Methos scowled. "It was logical. I needed to know who was who, and it couldn't be other Immortals, now could it?"

"Son of a-"

"Ladies present, Joe."

"Sorry, Buffy."

"No big."

Methos picked up his last thread of conversation, "Now then, we've cleared up the mystery of the ages. I take it you wish to say good bye to your baggage?"

Buffy blinked at the rapid shift, then nodded. "I kind of want to take them with me."

"The usual way is to send a note, cleverly disguised as a death certificate," Methos suggested.

"Yeah, well, they'd just do the whole raising from the dead thing and get really mad when the grave was already empty," Buffy flippantly replied.

"Got a point," Joe agreed. "She's not your average Immortal."

Methos gave him a sly look. "Yeah. I got that one, " and was secretly delighted at the girl's blush at his tone.

"I - I can't abandon Dawn, my sister, she's - I'm her only family."

The two men seemed to carry on another silent conversation. Joe apparently won or lost, depending on the pov. "Buffy, I hate to tell you this, but Dawn is not your sister."

She sighed. "Had that argument already. I know that, but she feels like my sister, even though I guess technically, she's a mystical clone of me. How'd you know?"

"We didn't know the clone thing?" Methos replied, shooting Joe another commanding glare. "But Immortals don't have blood kin. Your parents may have never told you you were adopted, but you were. We don't have parents, siblings or children. Makes family reunions much pleasanter..." the quip fell flat.

"We don't?" Buffy gulped.

"This is one you can't blame on me," Methos said quickly. "Always been that way. "

"So what, you just appear out of nowhere? Full grown? Cause I remember being a kid."

"We're foundlings," Methos said gently. "Frankly, I have no idea how we arrive on the earth. But, we're all considered orphans. Unless we're taken in and never told how we arrived."

Buffy looked pale, and did not protest when Methos shoved the as yet untouched beer into her hand. "Does that make Dawn, like you- us?"

"I can tell you when I meet her, " Methos gently replied. "Unless, have you ever felt a buzz near her?"

"Buzz?"

"Not every Immortal can sense pre Immortals," Joe argued.

"I know that, but some can. So she might be able to, unless the clone part messes it up," Methos frowned.

"She's right here." Buffy reminded them snarkily.

"Right. Joseph, looks like it'll be four of us, unless you want to make it five? Amy could tag along for some father daughter bonding?"

"She's assigned to Amanda and now, Cory, I guess. "

"Don't say I didn't offer." He rose, shoving the chair back under the table. "Come on, love. Let's get you and Dawn packed. Italy's not getting younger."

"We'll take my car to her place," Joe informed them. "Getting in that behemoth you drive.." For the first time, Buffy noticed his cane, and looked away politely. But he told her anyhow, "Lost both of them in Nam, so now I'm bionic. Just not so fast."

"Ha." was Methos' contribution as he got in beside Buffy.

At Buffy's door, they paused a moment while the Slayer braced herself for the whole meet the family thing. Then, with a sigh, she shoved the door open. "Hi guys, I'm home. With comp- Anya? You're dead."

Stopping dead in her tracks, Buffy stared at the red headed girl draped across the couch with her feet using Xander as a footstool.

Joe looked at Methos, who shook his head, mouthing _No buzz._

"I got better. Having my powers back made it just a temp thing," the girl shrugged. "Took a while to find ya'll."

"Steady, love," Methos breathed into her hair, gripping Buffy's arm to steady her.

Just then, a teen aged girl bounced in from the kitchen. "Hey, Buffy, isn't it neat that Anya's- who's that? Have you already found a boyfriend? Does he bite?"

"Dawn!" a very "tweedy" looking man reprimanded sharply.

Methos grinned to himself. "We haven't reached that point yet, but I'm working on it."

Xander snickered, only to have his ear kicked by his former girlfriend. Or was she present?

"He's not smoking or covered up like Spike," another red head, Willow, noted. "Must be human."

"Debatable,'' Joe said under his breath.

"He can't be," Anya argued. "I saw him die about a hundred years ago. "

"Your handiwork?" Giles asked.

"Not that time. Okay, it was nienty something. Titanic."

"That's not in the chroncles," Joe snapped.

"I chose not to Watch myself all the time," Methos hissed.

"I'm sure you're mistaken," Giles told her. "Dying must have addled your mem-" Under her glare, he broke off, cleaning his glasses reflexively.

Methos sighed. "She's right. But how are you here? You're not Immortal, Anya?"

"You're one of those guys?" she asked. "Cool. Most of them are rich, except for that Kit fellow since I cursed him."

Joe's ears perked up, sensing a gap about to be filled in his precious records.

"Hands off, he's taken," Buffy burst out, before she thought, reddening as Methos' expression turned into the proverbial cat eating cream.

Anya shrugged. "'sOkay."

Giles had gotten lost a few sentences ago. "I-Immortal?"

"Can we sit? Joe's not so good at standing for a long time," Methos sighed, helping his friend to a chair, not waiting for an answer. Then, he gave a succinct reply as possible, including that the two Summers women were going to Italy with him and Joe.

"Wonderful," Anya beamed. "Me moving in was really going to crowd things, but with you two gone. It's perfect."

"But the training, new Slayers..." Willow protested in distress.

"Chill, " Xander waved her off. "Buffster and Dawn deserve a break after all."

They all looked at Giles for a ruling.

He just stood there for a moment, then turned his most authoritive look on Methos. "Lacking a father, I will stand in and ask your intentions toward..."

"Giles!" Buffy exploded. "I'm twenty three."

Methos cut off the argument. "Honorable, I assure you. Buffy and her sister will be taken care of and trained in every aspect of swordplay they might need."

"Why do I need to fight? " Dawn asked, not realizing she might be as Buffy was too.

"Educational purposes," Methos smoothly covered. He'd not been able to get a clear reading on her.

"Okay. I'll go pack."

While Buffy and Dawn took care of the sundry details, Methos spent his time fending off and occassionally answering questions from his latest love's family, much to Joe's amusement. Finally, they arranged to meet back in England in a few months, once Kronos' estate was settled. The last words out the door were Xanders. "Keep an eye out for your arch nemesis, Buff. Andrew moved over to Italy, you know."

Italy

Leaving Buffy and Dawn to settle into the penthouse Kronos left him, a most comfortable one that did not indicate it had been habitated by a fiend, Methos headed to the law office that had handled his once friend's affairs.

"Wolf Ram and Hart, " he muttered, looking at it. "Sinister, no?"

"Somehow, reminds me of Ahriman," Joe agreed.

"Want to stay in the car?"

"Someone's got to watch your back."

Not commenting, for once tactful, Methos led the way in. The meeting was brief and to the point. The oldest Immortal gathered the documents outlining his new fortune then left. He and Joe stopped at the local Watchers offices to look them over. No one realized that researcher Adam Pierson was in fact an Immortal, so no one looked twice at the two closeting themselves to go over the Methos file.

"Good grief, Kronos was an idiot, " Adam cursed aloud. "He actually set himself up as 'the Immortal'. Had a following over here. Stupid.." and a long series of curses in dead languages erupted before ending in, "And he chided ME for letting myself get a reputation as the oldest man." Thumbing through the pages of a diary, his eyes widened. "He knew about those things Buffy was talking about. Vampires. Hell, he even had an affair with a couple of them, concurrently. Drusilla and Darla. While his minions tortured their lovers, Angelus and William the bloody. "

"I was talking to Giles about Buffy's history," Joe mused. "To help get her chronicles going. She dated those two."

"Darla and Dru-" Methos looked ill.

"Angelus and William."

That didn't help his green look much.

"They reformed at some point." Joe assured him. "Should be reassuring to ya, guy."

Methos raised one brow.

"If she can love those two," he gestured at Kronos' diary, "Death should be a piece of cake."

"Funny, junior."

"Gotta tell her sometime."

Methos did not look happy about that.

Weeks passed, with days spent training the two girls. Methos bought them an apartment, not wanting to sully Dawn's mind by 'shacking up' with her sister. He was not totally unchivalrous. Nights he took Buffy on the town, trying to avoid being confused with Kronos who had not been in Italy in the seventy years before his death, leaving few who knew what the Immortal looked like, just that Methos had the stuff that belonged to him.

Methos had mellowed since meeting Buffy, happy for the first time in years. Having Andrew invade her life again did not phase him. Cory Raines showing up looking for a job only phased him slightly, but he did find him a few jobs to do for "the Immortal", including handling Angel and Spike's rescue Buffy mission. Cory's penchant for explosives did cost Methos a bit, having to replace the two vampires' attire when Cory's bomb ruined the clothes.

Shortly after that, Methos got tired of explaining he was not Kronos and took his little group, save Andrew and Cory who made an interesting team, back to England where he confessed his entire history as Death. Buffy took it well. She had little room to judge, adn he was good now. And she loved him by this time.

That made it so much easier when at midnight in early June, a knock came at the small manor's door where Giles had ensconced them all. A very sleepy Anya had opened the door, shrieked and closed it again.

Her scream woke everyone else who trooped downstairs where Giles wearily opened the door to see a blue haired woman and

Spike.

"Hello, pet," the vampire sighed. "Got a room for a couple of homeless champions?"

Since sleep was pointless after that, they had sat up the rest of the night listening to the tale of the last battle with Wolfram and Hart. Gunn and Wesley died. Lorne was MIA, though the blue girl, Illryia, had looked cagy when his name came up, and Angel had gone off to brood after the dust settled. Spike and Illryia really had no where else to go, so here they were.

Just one big mixed up family.

STILL DON'T OWN


End file.
